


Is It That You Like My Sword, Maybe?

by necterin



Category: Love Esquire (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Frottage, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Swords, necking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 08:38:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20255296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/necterin/pseuds/necterin
Summary: Finally, after all this time, Hugh takes Kal to the barracks for a genuine spar. Unfortunately, they're drunk. And in an even more unfortunate twist, they're horny.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was a mistake. i'm so sorry.

The tavern was always rowdy, at this time of night. Especially on a Friday. Vel and Hugh jostle against each other at the wooden counter of the bar, fighting for the tavern keeper's attention, hands waving about high in the air as they shout loud above the mingling conversations surrounding them. Kal watched with baited interest, tipping his stein back and forth across the table he sat at. Really, he was far more interested in the woman sitting two stools away from his friends. Her hair was shiny and copper-colored, like a polished wheat penny, and her cheeks were ruddy with the heat of alcohol. She was laughing loud and full, the sound carrying an almost commanding air to it. He wondered quietly if, perhaps, she was an Alpha. 

The way she sat, leaned in yet controlled, reminded him of that certain allure. The tendency that Alphas had, able to draw your attention without even having to try. That type of attractiveness the Alphas he knew had. He’s shocked thoroughly out of his thoughts as Hugh claps a heavy hand on his shoulder. The soldier leans down, breath ghosting across Kal’s cheek as he asks the younger man whether or not he’s had enough drink yet. He’s out of uniform, casual tunic a soft eggshell white. It fits him nicely around the waist. Kal blinks when he’s patted again, his friend’s brows raised impossibly high.

“What? Drunk already? I should’ve expected that from you, really,” his voice was snide and teasing, a shit-eating grin making its way across the soldier’s face. “You been on top of your training, Squire?” Even if it was a barb, the words reminded Kal of something. He smacked at the arm draped over his shoulders, frowning playfully. 

“If you’d actually train me on how to use a broadsword instead of just swingin’ it around like an idiot, maybe I would be.” Hugh scoffed at that, taking mock offense to the brow Kal quirked at him. It was like this when they were at their best. It was like this when it was easiest to talk to him. Kal didn’t have to be on guard constantly about how he was looking at his friend or worry about how preoccupied his thoughts were on how commanding Hugh had been when they were fighting. Or on how he'd been acting like a true Alpha. It was far more difficult when he was sober. When he was drunk? He didn’t even worry about trying. Vel shoots the both of them a strange look as she seats herself opposite of Kal, purposefully kicking him in the leg. He sneers quietly, and she gives him a challenging look.

“You just won’t give it up, will you?” She was so snarky it hurt. Kal scoffed. 

“Do you even have enough muscle to hold a sword up, Shrimpy? Or is it all an elaborate ruse? I bet the one you swing around in the barracks is made of foam,” he hadn’t realized quite how tipsy he was until he tried to lean over the side of their table, pointing at Vel with an accusing finger. His head swam, trying to focus on her and not the churning of his stomach. Hugh’s arm around his shoulders- still there, despite trying to shrug it off- was warm, and steadying.  
Vel stuck out her tongue. It wasn’t as venomous and sharp as it normally was, however, the smug look on her face indicating that she thought she’d won the argument that never even existed. She sipped from her practically overflowing stein, looking to Hugh. Her expression grew twisted and confused as she clocked the considerate look on his face. “What?”

“Ah, well, I was jus’...” he rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, Kal’s eyes following the movement far more intently than he’d care to admit. He wondered what the soldier’s battle roughened fingers would feel like dancing across his nape. Suddenly, Hugh’s eyes were fixed on him, and he shot to attention. “The barracks are always open. For soldiers, that is. If you’re… if you want to learn so damn bad,” he paused, almost hesitant. Was there a flush to his cheeks? “I could teach ‘ya tonight.”  
Kal practically shot up out of his seat. He was far too tipsy to actually do that without upchucking his lunch, though, so he settled for an overdramatized gasp. Vel rolled her eyes.

“Are you kidding me? Like… are you shitting me, actually, right now?” He felt like a puppy wagging its tail, and by the look on Hugh’s face- bemused - he figured he looked the part as well. Hugh laughed that laugh of his. The kind he always pulled out when the ladies in the plaza were fussing over him. Confident, but controlled. Something only an Alpha could perfect.  
He nodded, then paused, shaking his head. “Yes. Well, no, I’m not… I’m not shitting you. But yes, I’m offering. Are you taking or not?” At this, Kal scoffed. Was he taking? Hugh would have to be stupid to think otherwise. He finally stood, gathering his scuffed leather vest and pulling at the collar of his undershirt. Drinking all night had done little to cool his temperature, but he was feeling a little extra warm at that very moment.

Hugh, having no seat to rise from, simply stood taller. Vel kicked at his leg in an attempt to wipe off the grin plastered on his face, but it seemed to be of no use. “Don’t kill each other,” she called, thoroughly ignored as the pair walked towards the entrance of the tavern, chattering away as if there was nothing else left in the world. She huffed in annoyance. Was it Heat season already? 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The walk from the tavern to the barracks was brisk, especially in the chill of the night air. The town lay quiet and empty between them, the intricate stone path leading through the plaza sprawled free for the taking. Usually, they had to bump and jostle and push to get anywhere it was so damn crowded. But not in the early morning hours. Kal took this time to admire the way the shops lining the plaza streets looked impossibly lonely, and then took it to admire the way Hugh’s legs moved under his leggings. Strong, confident. His thighs flexed with every stride forward and watching them do so made Kal’s stomach quiver. The night air had sobered him some, making him aware of his actions, hurriedly averting his gaze and staring straight ahead down the path as he tried to compose himself.

“Still haven’t cooled down?” The backs of Hugh’s knuckles pressed against Kal’s heat flushed cheeks. His words were teasing, though also slightly concerned. He batted the soldier’s hand away upon hearing the softness in his voice. He wasn’t dying or anything.  
“What? I’m fine. Jus’... was hot back there,” he covered lamely, kicking at the stone beneath his feet with the worn toe of his boot. Hugh gave him a skeptical look but finally focused his attention elsewhere. Unfortunately, the conversation wasn’t over and done with.

“Well, alright. You don’t need to lie to me, you know. If it’s… that time.” He almost whispered it, and Kal felt his stomach twinge with both annoyance and something far warmer. He smacked Hugh’s bare arm, shoving him away playfully.  
“Aw, is that why you offered to take me to the barracks? To show me some other kind of swordplay?” Hugh scoffed at this, but when Kal’s eyes moved over his face, he caught the slight hint of a blush on his cheeks. Perhaps he was still overheated from the tavern- it was packed tonight, after all. 

Not much was said after that. Not much needed to be said. They, surprisingly, weren’t the kind to sour in silence. Kal enjoyed this for multiple reasons. He got to focus on the serene sounds of the city at night, the sights he normally never saw on their way to the barracks, and the way Hugh looked in his casual clothes. These three things did well to keep him busy on the long walk there.  
When they eventually did reach the sprawling stone fortress, he noticed the large wooden gates at the front in which they normally walked through were bolted closed. He stared at it as if his thoughts of confusion could will it to open. Suddenly Hugh’s fingers were wrapped around his wrist, palm strangely hot against the top of his hand, and he was being pulled towards a smaller door to the left of the gate. Hugh fiddled with the lock for a moment before it sprung, the door creaking open with an awkward loudness. They both laughed, low and wheezy, like a secret between them, and pushed each other through the narrow doorway.

The inside portion of the barracks was dark, and Kal found himself grasping around in it for his friend. Hugh’s hand clasped together with his, the Squire finding himself dragged along through the expansive collection of closets filled with armor and dusty weapons.  
“Fighting in plain clothes?” He questioned, eyes meeting his friend’s when they finally warmed to the darkness. His fingers tightened around Hugh’s, sweaty. The soldier huffed out a laugh.

“It’ll take me years trying to suit up. Unless you want to devote valuable teaching time to help me change,” he quirked a well-groomed brow, and Kal rolled his eyes, head shaking quietly. Their fingers slipped together again, only breaking the touch when they emerged into the outside colosseum. The dirt ground was still scuffed and marked, dust scattered from fights held earlier in the night. Moonlight shone fuzzy on the selection of broadswords and shortswords on the other side of the training grounds, tucked safely away in their wooden bearings. Kal stepped forward to brush his fingers along the rough handle of the sword Hugh always chose. Hand clapping tight on his shoulder, he looked over to find Hugh grinning at him. The thought of how touchy he'd been tonight sent heat pooling low in his stomach. He wondered perhaps if the soldier was nearing his rut.

“Ah, why thank you, kind Sir,” Hugh stepped back, playfully bowing and extending a grabby hand. “For fetching my broadsword.” He paused, brows wagging. “That’s what I would say, were you not my Squire.” Kal rolled his eyes in response, unsheathing the finely polished broadsword from its scabbard and placing the rough leather handle against Hugh’s palm. Their fingertips brushed together, sending another heated spark down Kal’s spine. He smiled, trying his hardest to ignore it as he turned to inspect his options, leaving Hugh to his own devices.

It wasn’t usually this bad. Kal couldn't deny his attraction to Hugh- at least not himself. His friend was attractive. His build, muscled and lean, built from fighting, was something he liked to admire often. And not in an envious way. His hair, soft wavy locks of blue, was constantly mussed. It was unbearably difficult not to notice the way it matted to his forehead whenever he sparred, and watch the way sweat trickled down his jawline, slipping away underneath his armor. He stared at his own reflection, warped and uneven in one of the shiny blades hung from the wooden rack he was looking at. He clenched his hand into a fist. Nevermind Hugh, was he nearing his heat? 

“Gonna be ready anytime soon?” Kal jumped, looking over his shoulder at Hugh. He was leaning against one of the wooden support beams that held the cloth awning above them. He waved a dismissive hand at his friend, turning to pick a sword at random. It felt weighty in his hand, but that was alright. The extra difficulty would help him focus on something that wasn’t the way Hugh’s leggings clung to his upper thighs. The squire turned, pointing his sword with a twist of his arm in Hugh’s direction, brow quirked.

“Ready enough for ‘ya?” The soldier seemed to be admiring him for a moment before he laughed, the tip of his sword digging into the ground with the way his elbow rested on its hilt, doubling over as he wheezed. 

“Oh, sure. Sure. If that’s what ready looks like.” He slowly armed himself, hoisting his blade hip-high as he moved closer to the center of the ring. It was easier to see Hugh's face in the light of the moon, attractive and heat flushed. Kal swallowed, raising his sword until moonlight glinted off of its blade. Hugh did the same, crossing their blades and clinking them together softly. Kal recognized this from when he’d watched Vel and Hugh spar once. It was to signal the start of a fight. And that’s exactly what it did.

Hugh’s sword clashed harder against the length of Kal’s, the squire’s arms straining to keep a tight hold on the blade’s handle. They slid together, creating a quiet ‘shnk’ when contact between the two swords ceased. Kal stepped back, evening his weight and squaring his shoulders. Hugh did the same, a wide grin on his face. Almost predatory. As Hugh lunged a second time, his sword stuck out straight in an attempt to clash with Kal’s own, the squire decided to step backward. Hugh teetered forward, losing his balance when he wasn’t met halfway. Kal lashed out with his sword, bringing it firmly against Hugh’s unstable blade. Steel against steel, Kal’s steadier grip eventually forced Hugh unarmed, broadsword thunking against the dust.  
The Squire held his weapon out and away from his hip as he swept Hugh’s leg out from underneath him, calf smashing into the bone of the soldier’s ankle. His friend fell backward, body hitting the dust, an ‘oof’ leaving him when he met the ground. Kal stood laughing, goading over him, sword pointed with a mock threat at the soldier’s throat. 

He’d expected Hugh to look embarrassed at having been beaten so easily, expected to see his brows pinching together in frustration as curses leave his mouth as easy and smooth as butter. But none of that happens. Instead, Hugh lay beneath him with an expression akin to wanting. His cheeks were flushed, knee propped up against the side of Kal’s leg, thigh canted towards his crotch where-- the squire had to look away, eyes downcast and pointed towards the dirt in an attempt to avoid direct eye contact with the bulge in Hugh’s trousers. He could hear the quiet panting of his friend’s breath accompanied by the sound of fingers moving across the dust, perhaps to cover himself. When Hugh eventually spoke, his voice was low, silkier than it usually was.  
“You know, I’ve always…” he paused, clearing his throat. Kal could feel the heat of his eyes trained on his face, even though he’d turned away. “I’ve always found it… hot. To be dominated, during a fight. The rush of adrenaline you get trying to defend yourself, only to find that you can’t. That you’re at the complete mercy of your opponent.” His voice was rough. It did terribly sinful things to Kal’s stomach. He finally dared a look at his friend, heat rising to his cheeks when he was met with Hugh’s mussed appearance. He looked… easy. As if Kal could say anything, ask of him anything, and he’d do it. Lifting his sword again, he pointed the tip of it at Hugh’s throat.

“Is that how it is, then?” He moved his foot across the dusty ground with a crunch, the toe of his boot lifting to press against the underside of Hugh’s bulge, sliding along the crotch line of his pants until he came to step on the tight muscles of his friend’s inner thigh. “You’re at my mercy? Completely?” 

Kal could feel the flex of his friend’s leg beneath the toe of his boot, and he ground gently against it. Hugh’s head thunked back against the ground, eyes trailing upwards to the sky. Kal was breathing so hard he was sure the man beneath him could hear it- perhaps he could even hear the harsh stutter of his heartbeat. It was extremely strange how turned on he was by the image of Hugh underneath him. Hugh at his mercy. That wasn’t how this worked, was it? As Hugh squirmed quietly underneath the weight of Kal’s foot, the squire mulled over the semantics of the situation in his mind.  
Omegas were typically submissive. He supposed he’d never really been the ‘bend over and prostrate yourself’ kind of person, though. Especially not for Hugh. Gaze locking on Hugh’s flushed facials and proceeding to drag down over his dirtied plain clothes, moving then over the straining bulge in his pants, he wondered. Was that the kind of person Hugh was? He nudged at the soldier’s crotch again with his foot, watching his reaction with bated breath. 

“K-Kal. H-hey, are you…” Hugh trailed off as the edge of Kal’s blade pressed against the front of his neck, the squire’s wrist flicking to hold the position steady as he kneeled, a leg on either side of Hugh’s hips. Briefly, the swell of his ass rubbed over the bulge in the soldier’s pants, causing his pelvis to jerk upwards. Kal pressed the blade harder against his friend’s neck, shooting him a warning glance, deciding to go with the flow.

“You’re at my mercy, aren’t you?” He slid to sit crotch to crotch, ass on the dusty ground between Hugh’s thighs, legs spread out over his hips. Hugh swallowed, nodding quietly in response to Kal’s words. The squire sneered. “Act like it, then.” 

With a helping hand placed firmly on the outside of Hugh’s thigh, Kal helped the man beneath him to lift his hips, tugging the waistband of his pants down just low enough to expose the fabric of the briefs that encased Hugh’s bulge. As his fingers played at the band of his underwear, sword hand lax, he tried to think if he’d ever seen Hugh naked before, using the thought to distract him from his own embarrassment. Surely he had, hadn’t he? Looking up, the expression on Hugh’s face was wanting- expectant. The squire didn’t wait much longer before freeing his friend’s cock. Hard and red, Hugh’s member curled towards his stomach, a string of precum stretching from the tip of Hugh’s dick to the crotch of his undergarments. Kal swiped at it with the pad of his finger, spreading it with slow, careful movements around Hugh’s slit. The soldier’s hips jerked, Kal’s palm curling around the thickness of his member, giving it a few testing strokes, thumbing at the underside of the head. 

Hugh let out a shuddery breath, throwing his head back against the ground as Kal built up a steady rhythm. He stroked with confident flicks of his wrist at first, slowly speeding up to rub his thumb over the head of Hugh’s cock, before slowing once more and languidly tugging at the length of his shaft. Kal was enraptured by his friend’s reactions, needy and desperate. He felt the skin on the inside of his thighs wet, slick soaking through his underwear. He was painfully hard, still trapped in his own leggings. It was getting unbearable. Watching the way his fingers slid along the hard line of Hugh’s member, he found himself with an idea.  
His friend groaned disappointment at the loss of a hand on his cock, Kal’s fingers moving to tug roughly at the waistband of his leggings. His pants sagged awkwardly at the crotch as he angled his hips forward, finally freeing his own member, shiny and wet and sensitive. He tightened his grip on the broadsword still pressed gently against Hugh’s neck, shifting his weight to his knees as he kneeled, legs on either side of Hugh’s hips. He hunched over, hand taking Hugh’s length and rubbing it gently against his own. The electric feel of silky skin brushing against silky skin, wet and hot, caused him to shiver pleasantly, slick dripping down the inside of his thigh. Keeping their members steady with his free hand, he rocked forward with a hesitant shifting of his hips, the head of Hugh’s cock bumping up against the underside of his own. The groan he released was met by enthusiastic pants, Hugh looking up at him through lidded eyes. He rolled his hips forward again, Hugh joining him, skin sliding against skin as they rubbed against each other. 

Kal jumped at the feeling of hands around his waist, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of his hips as Hugh helped to angle him. The spark that shot up his spine at the sensation of their heads brushing together was something he chased after, curled over Hugh’s form as they rode each other, breath coming hot and heavy. With the aid of his hand, he felt his own release building, jerking his hips forward in an unsteady rhythm, thumb playing at the head of Hugh’s dick. Heat pooled in the base of his stomach, the squire letting out a strained cry as he tipped over, spilling all over his own hand and the cloth covering Hugh’s stomach. The tip of his sword dug into the ground, inches away from Hugh’s neck. When he looked up in fear to check on his friend, ruby-red blood welled from a cut along the side of his throat. 

“Oh, God, Hugh, I’m-” he felt a rough hand against the back of his neck, Hugh’s hips jerking up to continue the slide of his member against the palm of Kal’s hand.

“It’s fine,” he breathed, dragging the squire down into a rough mess of lips and teeth. Pulling back to catch his breath, he fixated on the bleeding cut, droplets of blood staining the ground beside Hugh’s head scarlet red. He leaned in, nose pressing against the line of his neck as his tongue lapped over the injury, lips suckling against his friend’s skin. Hugh’s hips stuttered, dick twitching against Kal’s palm, seed spilling warmly over his fingers as he came. He collapsed onto the ground again, panting, gaze fixed hungrily on Kal’s face when he finally removed his lips from the skin of Hugh’s neck. The soldier’s fingers carded roughly through the hair on Kal’s nape, dragging him down once more to lick at the blood that stained his lower lip. Teeth sunk into sensitive flesh, and Kal batted him back with angry hits to the shoulder.

“Woah, hey, what the fuck?!” He pulled away, a newly formed cut on the bottom of his lip welling coppery tasting blood. Hugh smirked like an asshole beneath him. 

“My attempt at a bonding bite,” he murmured, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face. Kal flushed, laying a hand over the top of his friend's face so he didn’t have to look at him anymore. 

“God, you’re such an asshole.” The laugh that escaped him was raspy but genuine. And this time, the warmth that he felt was more an afterglow. Formed from the feeling of contentment, and not longing. Because, well… what did he have to long for, now?


	2. Movement (Oh, Move me, Baby!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kal and Hugh experience difficulties with their relationship. Strained and undefined, their relationship endures the truest test of all- Kal's heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh, yet another mistake. so, so many mistakes.

It’d been a few months since the incident in the barracks. Since then frantic hand jobs underneath the darkened canopies of the forest at night, swallowed moans in the ‘privacy’ of Kal’s room, and stolen kisses in the shadows of the barracks became common practice. It was nice- Kal had to admit. The secrecy of it all, the thrill of knowing you could be caught at any moment. Sure, he would’ve preferred more… intimate moments involving only each other, specifically in the privacy of his own bedroom, but he knew some things weren’t meant to be. Mostly because Amy’s presence made it impossible. He still had Hugh’s companionship though, stronger than it had been months prior. So why was he… discontent? He found himself squirming restlessly at night, staring at the back of Hugh’s neck in annoyance, biting at his partner’s lips in quiet frustration-- and suddenly, it hit him.

Hand rubbing at the nape of his neck, watching the way Hugh’s teeth flashed when he smiled at the Princess, he realized it with a drop of his stomach. He wanted Hugh to mate him. It was… honestly, and truly, a scary thought. Ever since the start of their relationship, he hadn’t considered himself a ‘typical Omega’, and he certainly hadn’t considered Hugh a ‘typical Alpha’. They had their quirks about them. Hugh especially. But this… this made Kal start overthinking things.  
He tried to avoid his thoughts. Which, in turn, lead to him avoiding Hugh entirely. He joined the soldier for missions, cheered him on and kept his back as much as he usually did. But when the night fell, and Hugh’s breath panted hotly across the nape of his neck with hands pawing down lower, lower, towards all too sensitive places- he pushed away. Made excuses, asked his partner for a rain check. Soon, he began to warm to the ever-building need inside of him that pointed to being claimed. Perhaps because the lack of Hugh’s body heat mingling with his own was far too much to handle. Or perhaps because he’d actually become used to the idea of sharing more than just the small portion of his life that was being a squire with the other man. And so, it started.

Kal began a ‘mission’ of his own, of sorts. Charisma was something Hugh had always put extra emphasis on. It helped when attending diplomatic talks between Kingdoms, or even simply when walking around town and dealing with unruly or handsy citizens. So, obviously, Kal attempted to test his training upon his partner. He’d bare his neck more frequently. Whether that be stretching it from side to side in a loose collared tunic, bending his head forward to reveal his sweaty nape after a particularly long night of sparring, or throwing it back in prolonged ecstasy when things got a little heated- he displayed it. Almost challengingly. He made a point to draw more attention to his bottom half, too. He and Hugh had gotten intimate before, in that sense. But the squire made sure to reveal that part of him far more often, spreading his legs with a bow of his spine as he worked on Hugh’s member with his mouth, leaning himself dangerously low over a workbench, or purposefully rubbing it all over the soldier’s lap whenever they found time alone. It was a dirty game. One he, unfortunately, found himself losing.

Hugh was unresponsive. It made his heart tug coldly, and chest ache painfully whenever the other man averted his gaze or attempted to switch focus to something tamer. Something that wasn’t Kal, and the parts of himself he was trying so hard to give over. It hurt. It really, really did. And Kal wasn’t really one to push- so their relationship strained. Already, it was messy, undefined. They’d never given a name to what they were or acknowledged it fully. Never spoken it aloud. The stolen kisses in the shadows of the barracks, handjobs underneath the twinkling night sky of the forest, and moans quieted by each other’s lips slowly slipped away until they were practically non-existent. Kal assumed this meant they were over. And as the squire lessened his affections, Hugh reciprocated, believing his friend to view him as a one-night stand that went on for far too long. And that was the end of it.

Well, not really. Not for long.

They’d never actually spent time with one another during their respective breeding periods, Hugh avoiding Kal like the plague, and Kal doing likewise for the time when he feared giving himself completely over to the other man. Never even once had they considered helping one another out, lending a hand both literally and figuratively. Until the day Hugh had to get fitted for new armor.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

To put it simply, Kal hadn’t been feeling too well since the previous night. His stomach churned with an uncomfortable twist of heat, and his face felt far too sticky for such a cool day. He would’ve asked Hugh for time off had he not been specifically requested at the armory, excitement surging through him at the prospect of finally being fitted for something more protective than a leather tunic. The warmth that jellied his limbs and made his head feel fuzzy only intensified when Hugh gave him a toothy smile, patting his friend’s back forcefully as they entered the small shop, pushing him through the door jamb. 

“Lookin’ a little green, Kal. Nervous?” The hot squeeze of fingers against his shoulder left far too quickly for the squire’s liking, and he looked up at the blue-haired man beside him. He’d always looked softer in his plain clothes. More approachable. He scoffed, shaking his head.

“Over what? Watching you get fondled by some wrinkly old man?” It was supposed to be a joke, but it fell flat. It sounded too… empty. He sounded off. Even when the armorer who looked nearly as old as time came to the front of the shop to fetch them, and Hugh had to turn his face to avoid laughing, Kal couldn’t get himself to feel quite right about the situation. His stomach still twisted and wrung itself queasy, and the fog that clouded his brain didn’t seem ready to clear any time soon. When they reached the fitting area, a quaint, wall-papered room near the back of the shop, Kal sequestered himself away to a padded armchair in the back of the room.

He sat with his head in his hands, elbows propped up upon his knees, trying hard to ignore the worried glances he knew Hugh was sending his way as the armorer traipsed around the room measuring tape in hand. He could feel the burn of eyes on him, and it made the rolling heat in his stomach even worse. When Hugh finally moved to settle in front of Kal, sitting back on his heels and peering up at the squire, he finally recognized his feelings for what they were. He was starting his heat. And quite soon, if the ache in his limbs as he restrained them from shooting out and grabbing at Hugh as if he needed him to breathe was anything to go by. 

“Hey, look,” the soldier’s voice was surprisingly sincere when he spoke, brows drawing softly together and lips downturned in a pout, “If you need to head home, I… don’t mind it.” Kal’s head finally lifted from his hands, flush impressive across his cheeks as he stared at the man before him. He forced a laugh, weak and breathy, a hand waving with a stutter in front of his face. 

“N-no. Seriously, I’m fine. Amy’s cooking is probably bothering me. Y’know how it is,” he joked, watching as Hugh’s brows slowly climbed his forehead. Was he busted? He tried harder, the louder he spoke the more his voice wobbled. “Really, it tasted like t-trash last night. She tried making a r-roast, but we fought while it was cooking.” He swallowed. “She left it out in the fire for so l-long it burnt to a c-crisp. Still made us eat it anyway.” 

Hugh’s lips parted slightly, as if in realization. The darkening hue of his cheeks made Kal’s stomach drop, and he averted his gaze to look around the room. The fact they were left alone made him want horrible, horrible things, the fuzz of his head convincing him that they were clearly the only option. When Hugh’s fingertips ghosted across the underside of his wrist, he jerked himself away and stood, slipping past the soldier and walking further into the room as if he’d just attempted to burn him. That’s certainly what it felt like, anyway. “Kal, you’re…”  
He grabbed at his wrist, rubbing at where he’d been touched. It still tingled warmly. Looking up from the wooden floorboards, flinching at the sound of Hugh’s voice, he found himself standing right in front of the expansive mirror that took up most of the northern wall of the room they occupied. He spied the darkening flush on his cheeks that spread down his neck, the way his legs shook weakly, and the slight bulge that began to form at the front of his pants. He jumped when he caught sight of Hugh behind him, eyes peering at the squire’s reflection over the top of his head. His eyes seemed worried. Wanting. It made Kal shiver. Bare hands slid up the length of his upper arm, resting firmly atop his shoulders with a squeeze. When Hugh pressed his nose against the crown of his head, the squire jerked away, falling into a wobbly squat on the floor. He panted, curled in on himself. 

“D-don’t touch me!” He cried, weak and muffled into the sleeves of his shirt. “P-please. P-please don’t… d-don’t touch me,” the squire whimpered, eyes shut tight. He could hear Hugh’s labored breathing above him, the creak of the wood beneath his feet as his weight shifted, armor chest piece that he’d been fitted with rustling loudly against his chest as he crouched behind his shivering companion. A soft kiss pressed itself to the back of Kal’s neck, causing him to shudder violently, tossing his head forward to present Hugh with his nape upon instinct. The soldier took this as an invitation, tongue hot as he licked a stripe of slowly cooling saliva over the squire’s nape, mouthing gently as he continued to pepper the area with kisses. 

The floor creaked beneath them as Kal leaned back into his companion’s touch, breathing hard and ragged, squirming against the front of Hugh’s knees. “Hugh, y-you’re--” he was interrupted mid-sentence as a low whine escaped his throat, the Alpha behind him pulling him straight onto his lap and rutting softly against the curve of his ass. For the first time, Kal feels as if he’d actually like to lose control. As if he’d like to fall to pieces, and allow Hugh to run his hands through the mess he created. Hugh’s palm spread out flat against the center of the squire’s chest as he pressed them together, back to front, breathing hard against the jut of Kal’s shoulder.

“Do you want this? Am I… am I reading into things that aren’t there?” His voice was small, which surprised Kal, considering the position they were in. “Am I trying too hard for something I can’t have?” Kal’s breathing hitched, and he stared pointedly down at the floor in front of him. His hips rolled subconsciously back into Hugh’s own, head hanging low as he wrung his hands in his lap. Looking up to catch his reflection in the mirror the sight of himself splayed out against Hugh’s front caused his stomach to turn with warmth. He snaked an arm behind him, fingers rubbing against the inseam of his friend’s pants.

“Look,” the squire spoke softly, referring to the reflection set before them. “You see it, don’t you? Us? Me, on your lap?” He rolled his hips back again, ass grinding against the growing bulge in Hugh’s pants. The Alpha’s breath came out shuddery. Kal craned his neck, catching Hugh’s eyes out of the corner of his own. “I don’t think I’d be getting as wet as I am if I didn’t want you.” 

Suddenly, Kal was lifting. Hugh’s hands were firm on his hips, tugging the band of his leggings down past his thighs and causing them to bunch awkwardly. Normally, the squire would care. He’d bitch and moan in a teasing manner, making fun of his partner- now only the latter was true, a low exhale escaping him as Hugh’s war-roughened hands brushed against the slick crack of his ass. All awareness of where they were melted away as a finger pressed against his twitching hole, Hugh gently working himself inside, aided by thick globs of slick that had settled along the inside of Kal’s thighs. He pushed back against the pressure, releasing a hiccuped groan as Hugh’s finger slipped into him, pressing gently at the squire’s silky insides. The soldier crooked his finger against the muscle of Kal’s hole, working him loose with slow strokes of his index finger. 

Kal hated how empty it made him feel. Even though the friction of Hugh’s finger inside him was good, even though the stretch he felt when Hugh finally pressed a second finger against him, slipping it carefully past his entrance and scissoring him open slow and hungry, he wanted more. He wasn’t satisfied. And he knew why, too. Hand rubbing along the inseam of Hugh’s too tight pants, his palm slid along the length of the soldier’s leg until he was able to cup his fingers against Hugh’s erection. It still strained painfully against the crotch of his pants, Kal’s fingertips tracing the shape of his cock through the thin leather. 

“This’d feel far better, don’t you think?” He leaned his head back against the front of Hugh’s shoulder, breath panting hot against the side of the soldier’s neck as he watched their reflection in the mirror. He could see Hugh’s fingers disappearing inside of him, though they weren’t quite big enough to stretch him visibly. His stomach churned. He wanted that. To be visibly taken, visibly Hugh’s. His neck craned and he mouthed at the smooth skin of Hugh’s neck, rolling his hips back against the pressure of fingers inside him. Hugh groaned at his companion’s words, gaze heavy-lidded as he watched the flipped version of himself stretch open the man laid bare against him. 

“Is that what you want?” He asked again, so unsure it made Kal’s chest squeeze. He was affected by his heat, wasn’t he? The heavy flush on Hugh’s cheeks suggested so, and the way his mouth parted to take in Kal’s scent only confirmed such, nose rubbing against the line of the squire’s throat. Why… was he so damn unsure? Kal squeezed the outline of Hugh’s dick between his thumb and index finger, stroking slowly through the leather of the soldier’s pants.

“Is that what you want, Hugh?” In the absence of Hugh’s dominance, Kal found some of his own. “You feel about ready to burst, you know. The front of your pants is even wet- I didn’t know you were this easy.” He faltered as Hugh crooked his fingers, brushing against the sensitive spot inside him. He whined, head falling forward, hips rolling back on the soldier’s fingers. “Y-you know you’ll regret it if you don’t come inside me. It’s not like fingers do anything for you.” He palmed Hugh’s bulge, shooting him a lopsided grin through his reflection in the mirror. “Don’t you want to take me, Hugh?”

Suddenly, the squire was pushed forward, elbows forced against the wooden floorboards roughly as his legs were spread. His knees stung from hitting the floor so hard, looking up to find Hugh’s palms pressing and rolling the soft flesh of his ass in the reflection before him. He groaned, desperate not to look away. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to see. He rocked his hips backward, hole twitching with the need to be filled. A shiver shot up his spine as the feeling of Hugh’s tongue spread out flat against his entrance, quiet moans escaping him. He was frustrated. He wanted to be thrust into, broken into pieces and messed around by the man behind him. Instead, Hugh was focused on circling the rim of his hole with the tip of his tongue, teasing and pressing until it started to slip in, only to pull away at the last moment. His fingernails scraped at the wood of the floor underneath his palms, thighs shaking.

“Are you gonna spend forever messing around back there? Or are you going to fuck me?” The hot feeling of Hugh’s tongue against him went cold, saliva and slick dripping down the inside of his thigh. He looked up at their reflection, trying to glean something from Hugh’s expression, but he wasn’t able to. Looking down, fear caused his arms to lock, staring at the rough floorboards as silence settled between them. “Are… Hugh? Are we…” he spoke in a pant, scared and quiet. Then, without warning, a more persistent pressure was pushing at his entrance. He lurched forward slightly before reminding himself to bear down against it, breathing in loudly as the head of Hugh’s cock began to push into him, catching at his rim.  
As soon as Hugh was inside, hilted fully within the shaking man beneath him, he began to thrust slowly. Kal’s teeth grit in response, rolling his hips forcefully back against the growing bulge of Hugh’s knot. He’d never taken it inside him- the soldier had never let him, for obvious reasons - but he wanted to. Now more than ever. He snapped his hips back against Hugh’s, watching their reflection as the soldier’s fingers squeezed red indents into the flesh of his ass cheeks, attempting to keep his composure while rocking slowly into his companion. Kal’s insistence wore him down, however, and soon Kal’s back was arched painfully as Hugh pressed into him with rough thrusting motions. 

Kal scratched at the floor, panting wildly as he felt the bump of Hugh’s knot against his hole. He squirmed back against it, chest heaving. “Hey, Hugh,” he started, voice low and keening. “Hugh, Hugh… fill me, please,” he was begging at this point, but he didn’t much care. “Fill me. Take me. M-make me yours, God, please,” his voice strung out in a high cry as Hugh gripped the base of Kal’s cock, chest plate pressing against his back as he forced his knot through Kal’s entrance. It was painful. Of course, it was painful. But it felt so fucking right. Hugh’s hand fisted in the squire’s hair as he began thrusting again, quick short jerks of his hips.

“You’re such a brat,” he spat against the back of his friend’s head, voice lacking all signs of venom and hate. “You have no idea what this means to me. What mating you would mean to me. You’re so…” the squire caught the hot drip of tears down Hugh’s cheeks in the mirror, quiet except for the rough pants that escaped him as a result of Hugh’s thrusting. “Did you ever even want me? Do you… do you want me, or do you just want to fuck? Are my feelings just messing around to you?” His voice grew weaker as his thrusts became more erratic, less rhythmic. Kal gasped, head falling forward as he stared at his hands. Should he have been blunter about his feelings? He felt stupid. They were both stupid. Spine bowing, he brushed the hair along his nape upwards, baring the back of his neck completely.

“Mate me. I’m not fucking around,” he looked at their reflection in the mirror, breath catching at the sight of Hugh’s form covering his back, the shivering of his thighs beneath his weight. “I want this. I want you. B-bite me, Hugh, please, quick, j-just b--” with a sharp cry, he was silenced, Hugh’s teeth drawing thick rivulets of blood as they broke the skin on the back of his neck. His release overtook him without warning, vision fuzzing as he fell forward, Hugh caught inside him as his knot swelled. Warmth pumped into him, stomach twisting uncomfortably at the feeling. He didn’t despise it, the feeling of Hugh’s tongue dragging across the fresh marks upon the back of his neck soothing. They both took a few moments to gather themselves, spent and fucked out, Hugh eventually helped Kal back into his lap. The squire leaned against his friend’s chest, fingers sliding down to prod at where they were joined. 

“Looks…. Nice,” he murmured, shivering as his own fingertips brushed against the stretched rim of his hole. He felt Hugh’s dick twitch inside him, eyes shooting to look at his friend’s heat flushed face in the mirror. 

“Dude. I just came.” The soldier huffed in irritation. Despite this, however, his arms were wrapped snuggly around Kal’s waist, palms pressed flat across his stomach. Silence laid thick between them as Hugh rest his forehead against Kal’s shoulder, face unreadable.

“Was that…” Kal’s hand reached to brush against the stinging bite marks on the back of his neck. “Did you want that?” His voice dropped to a whisper, meeting Hugh’s eyes in the mirror. The way the soldier’s brows knit made fear course through Kal’s stomach, so he continued in hopes to appease him. “I-I never… I never thought you’d actually do it, but I wanted you to, and it scared me so bad how much I wanted you to,” a nervous laugh escaped him, but he pushed on, “And then we just… stopped. We stopped, and my heat started, and now we’re here, and I need to know if you… if you wanted that.” When he looked to Hugh again in the mirror, his expression asked a silent question. ‘Did you want me?’

Hugh’s fingers cupped the curve of Kal’s jaw, tilting his head to the side as he leaned forward to slot their lips together. His top lip slid over Kal’s bottom, tongue swiping across puffy flesh and leaving a spit trail of saliva in his wake when he pulled away. He pressed his forehead against Kal’s temple, eyes meeting -and not through the mirror -for the first time in what felt like hours.

“Maybe we need to visit the archives more,” he murmured, thumb rubbing across Kal’s cheek. 

The squire scrunched his nose, brows knotting. “What?”

He was rewarded with a soft laugh, Hugh’s lips pressing another kiss to the curve of his jaw. 

“Or, on second thought, maybe we need to visit Giselle. Is there a disease that causes extreme stupidity? Idiot syndrome, maybe?” Hugh’s smile widened. Kal scowled at him playfully.

“Dumb bitch disease, maybe?” Kal shot back, teasing. Hugh pinched at his cheek, drawing back to stretch his arms over his head, chest plate shifting uncomfortably against Kal’s back.

“Whatever. We’re mated now. Bonded. Totally in-escapable for life,” he wrapped his arms around Kal’s waist again, giving his lover a tight squeeze. “So, dumb bitch disease or not, you’re…” Kal’s fingers intertwined with Hugh’s, and he gave the man a soft smile.

“I love you.” 

Hugh buried his face into Kal’s shoulder with a frustrated groan, fingers pinching at the skin on the squire’s belly. “Woah! Dude, not fair! That’s playing dirty!” A laugh escaped him, cheeks entirely too red to be normal. “You even said it first, too. So bogus.” Nuzzling his lover’s shoulder, he sighed, more than content.  
“I love you too.”


End file.
